I love this picture of myself and The Bug. We were in Telluride, CO on our first family trip since having him. We were headed up the gondola, heading to dinner at a nice place. I felt human for the first time in months. I remember thinking it was possible I wouldn't be tired forever, that I would wear makeup and maybe, just maybe, complete full sentences again.

It's been three years since he was born. I can't remember really what life was like before The Bug. When he was born, I was born. I wasn't a mother until he arrived. I guess we started out on this journey together - both were pretty new at this.

I've messed things up. He's been pretty good about forgiving such things. We've fumbled through all of this together - late night feedings, diaper blow-outs, crying jags (uh ... his AND mine), scraped knees, the like.

The Bug is three now. He tells me all sorts of stories. Lately, he'd decided that staying in bed is for the weak; he'll get up and check out the party we're having once that door shuts to his room. He's sauntered down the hall to tell us he has holes in his jammies, that the dinosaur he's sleeping with is cool, that he made a robot out of blocks once. Last night, he got out of bed to tell me he'd tooted. You know, keeping mommy in the loop and all.

It's entirely rewarding to have been a mother, and of course, especially because I'm a mom to this little guy. When he throws his arms around my neck and professes his love for me, I melt. Even when he's wandering through the entire house screaming, "MOMMYMOMMYMOMMY!" only to find me and 'give' me a booger he'd saved, I couldn't be happier. (not to have the booger, necessarily, but ...)

Being a mother is a harder job than ANY I've had before. You are on duty 24/7. You don't get breaks. You think for yourself, your child. You are on alert at all times; you do not rest. You don't sleep peacefully; one ear is always open to listen for the pitter patter of feet coming to alert you about bodily functions.

So ... Happy Mother's Day to all of you who have children, have lost children, have gained children. Happy Mother's Day to my biological mom, to the mothers I have found a long the way that continue still to help me on this journey.

You are appreciated, you are needed, and you are most certainly loved.

"One of the very few reasons I had any respect for my mother when I was thirteen was because she would reach into the sink with her bare hands - bare hands - and pick up that lethal gunk and drop it into the garbage. To top that, I saw her reach into the wet garbage bag and fish around in there looking for a lost teaspoon. Bare hands - a kind of mad courage."

~Robert Fulghum

Labels: a kind of mad courage, love thursday, mother's day